


How the Most Dangerous Thing is to Love

by Su1010



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "I don't regret anything", Angst, Cheating, Firsts and Lasts, Heartbreak, M/M, Pain, right person wrong time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su1010/pseuds/Su1010
Summary: Nobody told Atsumu Miya that his last heartbreak would hurt as much as his first – especially when it was Sakusa Kiyoomi who broke his heart all three times.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 133
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	How the Most Dangerous Thing is to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to an EXTREMELY late entry for Day 6, I'm so sorry omg. This is my first Sakuatsu fic so pardon any details that I might have messed up on and feel free to correct them in the comments! As always, enjoy the angst!
> 
> P.S.: Feel free to listen to Drowning and Drugs by Eden because I was listening to those two songs on loop when I was writing this.

There were some places in Kansai which you could only find if you were really looking for them, and people who could only be found if you were lost. That’s how Hinata Shoyo found Atsumu Miya tucked away in an Izakaya restaurant deprived of neon lights and illuminated by a single fluorescent lamp instead – hanging overhead as the owner of the bar greeted him.

“Miya-san,” Hinata hurried over to the blonde setter who was downing glass after glass of beer as if there was no tomorrow.

_I am drowning in liquor and apathy._

Atsumu wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, the alcoholic beverage leaving a stain on the cashmere fabric and Hinata sighed when he realised this wasn’t ending anytime soon. He took a seat beside the Miya twin and gestured to the bartender to pour him a glass too. Turning to Atsumu, he saw how the setter seemed to have aged overnight.There were dark circles underneath his eyes which were even more prominent in stark contrast to his complexion which was unusually pale.

“Shoyo,” his teammate greeted, words slurred slightly as he tried to string sentences out of words unspoken. “What are ya doing here?”

Hinata was about to reply; but quickly clamped his mouth shut when he remembered the real reason he was here. Bokuto was the first one to notice their setter go missing straight after training. Being out of character for Miya Atsumu who normally stayed until the last moments of the gym closing to practice his sets, Bokuto had suggested Hinata and him go find their teammate.

But before Bokuto even stepped three inches out the door, his phone rang and Hinata heard Akaashi’s voice on the other end. Apparently, he had just finished editing another manga and asked Bokuto if he was free to celebrate. Hinata knew before his senior turned to him with that pitiful face pleading for sympathy, that he was going to be abandoned. That was how he had ended up strolling the back-alleys of Hyogo, searching desperately for a man who didn’t want to be found. 

_Or maybe he wasn’t lost in the first place._

“I, uh-“ Hinata scratched the nape of his neck – a habit that he had developed ever since high school that made him more painfully aware that he was going to lie through his teeth to his teammate. “We noticed you were absent from the afterhours practice session, so I came looking for you.”

Atsumu laughed, but it was as bitter as the alcohol coating his throat and echoed in the silence of the small space where heartbreak could be forgotten momentarily. Where memories could be stored away in the crevices of your grey matter and you could access them only when you were in the darkest places of your mind – surrounded by grief and anguish.

“Let me guess, that curly-haired prick didn’t notice shit, huh?”

Hinata’s expression visibly changed as he developed one of confusion and arched an eyebrow at Atsumu. “Who is – _oh_.”

Number 15 – Sakusa Kiyoomi. Excellent wing spiker but absolutely hopeless bastard when it came to romance. “I didn’t know you guys had broken up,” Hinata cleared his throat, forcing the beer down his throat to contain the bile that had started to rise. 

“We didn’t,” Atsumu shook his head, leaning back in his seat and Hinata trained his gaze on the wooden stool that was precariously balanced on its two hind legs. “He cheated on me.”

“Miya-san-“

“Have ya ever been in love, Shoyo?”

Hinata fell silent at the question despite having an answer in mind. _Love_. Was it adoration? Affection? Worship? All these were derivatives of love to Hinata Shoyo who had revered Kageyama Tobio back in their high school days when they spent time on the team together. They had eventually gone their separate ways and when Hinata saw that Kageyama had gotten a girlfriend, his heart had fallen into an abyss that he didn’t even know existed in the first place.

 _Oh,_ , Hinata realised with a growing sense of regret that was blooming in his chest like the cherry blossoms after winter. _Maybe I was in love after all._

He shook his head in response, wanting Atsumu to tell him about his heartbreak. Maybe he was just trying to conceal the fact that he had been in love with that raven-haired setter of his after all. Or maybe he just didn’t want anyone to know about the guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders alongside remorse.

“Well,” Atsumu set down his glass on the counter, hands clutching it so tightly Hinata could see the white of bone peeking through like the first ray of sunlight after a storm. “Let me tell ya about the time that fucking wing spiker of ours broke my heart – thrice."

* * *

The first time Atsumu Miya had laid eyes on Sakusa Kiyoomi, the latter had immediately attracted his attention because of that stupid neon jacket he often donned which made him look like a fucking highlighter. They were at the All-Japan training camp and Atsumu had nudged his twin, who gave him a withered look in return and shoved him so hard, Atsumu had almost fallen over. He tripped and stumbled, only to regain his composure in front of the boy who had looked down at him with narrow eyes full of contempt. 

Atsumu was always one to talk without thinking, and this was one of those instances where he simply couldn’t filter his words because all that was in his head was how alluring this boy looked to him. 

“What’s with the mask?”

Before Sakusa could answer, Osamu had dragged his twin away while apologising to the boy using something along the lines of _“I’m so sorry, he lost some braincells in the womb.”_

When they were back in their room, all Atsumu could think about was how those emerald eyes had enamoured him. Those pair of eyes haunted him throughout the week and Atsumu found himself seeking them in every person he passed in the camp. But he only found them the night before the last day – sitting alone at a table and eating an extremely late dinner.

“Why didn’t you eat earlier?” Atsumu questioned, settling into the chair across the boy, watching as those familiar green eyes glanced up briefly to register his presence, before gazing back down to fixate on the ramen.

“I don’t like eating with people,” the boy replied honestly and Atsumu was taken aback by his answer. Being an outspoken person, he couldn’t fully comprehend how someone was able to despise human interaction. Sometimes, he would just annoy Osamu for the sake of talking with his twin.

“I mean, why?” Atsumu blinked at the boy. Once, twice, _thrice._

“Just, don’t feel like it,” he retorted blatantly and Atsumu felt this need in his heart to reach out and take his hand so that Atsumu could turn it over in his palm and trace all the lines just to let him know that he was not alone. 

“Atsumu,” the blonde boy got up from his seat and smiled softly at the boy before him, stretching his hand out.

The boy simply stared at the hand, blinking like Atsumu had did. Once, twice, _thrice._ He didn’t take Atsumu’s hand in his.

“Sakusa.”

The next day when the camp ended, Atsumu didn’t get the chance to bid goodbye. Now all that remained in his memory were a pair of dark green eyes shrouded in such melancholy that all Atsumu wanted to do was reach out and hug it all away. When the bus pulled away and Osamu commented that his twin was uncharacteristically quiet, that was the first time Atsumu realised that Sakusa Kiyoomi had broken his heart.

* * *

Hinata had moved onto his second glass of beer, now truly immersed in the story his senior was narrating. Maybe it was out of sheer curiosity. Maybe he just wanted to feel someone else’s pain because it hurt less than his own. Or maybe Hinata Shoyo was eager for his senior to continue the second part because he wanted to know what reciprocated love felt like.

* * *

The second time Atsumu Miya had met Sakusa Kiyoomi, it was three years after the training camp, when Inarizaki and Itachiyama faced each other at the inter-high finals. Atsumu and Osamu were engaged in conversation about their rotation when Atsumu caught out of the corner of his eye, the flash of a green neon jacket. “Sakusa,” he called out, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. The curly strands framing Sakusa’s face were now longer and all Atsumu wanted to do was run his hands through them and feel how soft they were under his touch.

It wasn’t until Osamu approached him and slapped him on the back, hard – to break him out of his reverie that Atsumu noticed the Itachiyama team behind Sakusa, donning their jerseys. Realisation slowly hit him and his jaw dropped. “Yer’ our rival for finals?”

Sakusa shrugged and walked away, his teammates glancing at Atsumu curiously as they wondered where their ace spiker had met the Inarizaki setter. Osamu watched as his twin brother stared after the boy and whacked his shoulder. “Where did ya meet him?”

Atsumu scowled, rubbing his shoulder where a bruise was starting to form. “Training camp in case yer’ amnesiac ass forgot. Remember that guy I fell into because yer’ fatass pushed me?”

Atsumu continued staring after the boy who he had become fascinated with; ignoring his twin brother defending himself that the push was just a _‘slight shove’_. Sakusa Kiyoomi was an enigma – a puzzle Atsumu wanted to try and put together the way he used to solve rubric cubes when he was a child. But people weren’t objects you could take apart and put back together. Broken things remained broken no matter how faint the crack was. 

Kita had coming running out through the gymnasium doors, shouting for the Miya twins to get their asses back inside for the tournament. When the match started, all Atsumu could focus on was how good of an ace spiker Sakusa was, and how Sakusa kept his gaze fixated on Aran at all times. Atsumu also took note of how cautious his movements were compared to Aran who received all of Atsumu’s sets with blazing energy, spiking it into their opponent’s court. Sakusa was the opposite – Atsumu noticed how his gaze remained transfixed on each toss as he analysed it before spiking. It was only after Itachiyama won the match that Atsumu found out Sakusa was among the top three aces in the country.

Inarizaki had taken the defeat in stride, foxes bearing their pride proudly. Atsumu ignored how his teammates were still discussing how good Sakusa’s spikes were; instead choosing to go to Itachiyama’s locker room and find the boy himself.

That was the first time Atsumu had seen Sakusa without his signature mask as the boy stood with his teammates, smiling albeit slightly at the victory they had just gained. Atsumi didn’t know where he had gained all the courage from to knock on the door, adrenaline left over from the match still flowing through his veins like electricity.

Their captain had looked up and Sakusa had too, the abrupt sound piercing the silence and reverberating through the empty space. 

‘”Uh-” Atsumu found himself suddenly incapable of stringing proper sentences, stuttering like a fool as he simply gestured to Sakusa who gingerly stepped out of the locker room, leaving his teammates to celebrate.

“Yes?” the latter questioned Atsumu, crossing his arms across his chest and Atsumu gulped as he contemplated his next decision. But Atsumu Miya was not a patient man and he did things rashly without considering the consequences. Before they both had time to comprehend anything that was going on, Atsumu had leaned in. Atsumu Miya was kissing Sakusa Kiyoomi and the best part was that Sakusa was kissing him back.

The two boys stood in the light of the setting sun as the day came to an end, dusk falling over the Kansai region. Panting, Atsumu pulled away rather hesitantly, heart pounding within his chest, threatening to escape. Even after a vigorous match, his heart had never beat this hard and fast before. It suddenly made him even more aware of what he had just done. Sakusa was currently staring at him with a shocked expression on his face, and Atsumu knew he had fucked up. 

“I’m sorry,” the boy apologised profusely, wiping at his mouth as he pushed past Atsumu to make his way back inside. But Atsumu grabbed his hand and for the first time since he was fifteen, Atsumu saw those beautiful emerald eyes he had yearned for.

“Please,” Atsumu begged, a silent plea for him to stay. But Sakusa Kiyoomi was a man of principles and he shook his head, tugging his hand out of the Inarazaki setter’s grasp.  
“I’m sorry,” he apologised yet again and Atsumu could swear that heartbreak had never felt this glorious before – the sound of the birds chirping on the horizon distracting him from the sound of his own heart tearing in half as he laughed, the tears following soon after. 

That was the second time Sakusa Kiyoomi had broken Atsumu Miya’s heart.

* * *

Hinata hadn’t touched his second glass of beer at all, droplets of condensation starting to form at the rim as the ice melted slowly, time ticking by as midnight came and passed.  
“How was the third time?” Hinata asked, his tone low, voice barely above a whisper in fear he would shatter the delicate atmosphere that had befallen them – shrouding them in silence and uniting them through heartbreak. 

_Hurt and grieve; but don’t suffer alone._

“The third time,” Atsumu laughed, and Hinata saw the reflection of the Atsumu he knew, one of the most talented setters he knew aside from Kageyama. The Atsumu who laughed and joked around with his teammates, poking fun at them occasionally and complaining when they teased him back. For a brief moment, Hinata saw the Atsumu Miya the world knew, not this empty, hollow shell of a man who was fading so fast Hinata fear he would become a ghost – trapped in the memories of his dark matter forever, prisoner to his pain.

“The third time hurt the most.”

Graduation found the Miya twins pursuing vastly different careers. Atsumu’s passion for volleyball still burned brightly but Osamu’s had since dimmed, his passion for food more exuberant now. Atsumu had eventually been scouted to join the Black Jackals – a top tier Division 1 volleyball team while Osamu had gone on to open his own onigiri shop called Onigiri Miya in honour of their family name.

Atsumu was excited for new beginnings and his new career. He didn’t expect a flashback from the past – a memory unearthed from the deepest part of his mind to also be there with him. Suddenly it seemed like the beginning of the end, when Atsumu Miya spotted from across the court, a familiar jacket that kept haunting his dreams every night and the curly hair framing those emerald eyes he had missed for so long.

_I think I lost my mind a while ago; cause’ I’ve been seeing some ghosts._

The first day of practice had ended well, and Atsumu found himself still amazed by Sakusa’s analytical skills even after all these years. The only difference was that this time, they were on the same team and Atsumu struggled to come to terms with reality. Each day he tried to get closer to Sakusa, with each training session, every single minute that passed. He even caved and started calling the latter Omi-omi, a nickname born out of spite but laced with affection. His efforts weren’t oblivious, with Hinata and Bokuto among those that noticed. It wasn’t until the team decided to go for a late-night supper after practice one night that Atsumu finally broke.

He had gone outside the restaurant for a breath of fresh air, the atmosphere inside too suffocating with Sakusa constantly ignoring him, refusing to even acknowledge his existence. Atsumu felt as though he was invisible – a thin sheet of paper that turned translucent when you poured water over it like the petals of the skeleton flower. Sighing, he bent down and cradled his head in his hands, trying to figure out his next move. The faint sound of footsteps came closer and closer as Atsumu lifted his head to see Sakusa standing beside him.

“What are you doing out?” Atsumu questioned, rising slowly to stand next to him. 

Sakusa shrugged and lifted a cigarette out of his pocket, reaching into his other pocket to grab his lighter and lit it, inhaling the smoke and letting it fill it lungs as he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

“You smoke?” Atsumu arched an eyebrow. “ **AS A PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE?** ”

Sakusa scowled at how many octaves Atsumu’s voice had risen. “Don’t be so surprised, I just do it occasionally.”

“But-“

“You need a release, something that takes your mind off things once in a while. It’s not good to always be so fixated on the same thing until you lose sight of the ones around you.”

Atsumu didn’t understand a single fucking word of whatever the fuck Sakusa had said, but he just nodded repeatedly, pressing his palms against the brick wall and letting the sharp edges prick him.

“I want one,” he declared, making Sakusa arch an eyebrow at him this time.

“Really, Miya? You sure you can handle this?”

Atsumu scowled. “Yer’ far too conceited sometimes.” He immediately realised what he said and his expression started to morph into one of horror. But that soon changed when Sakusa laughed out loud and Atsumu found it to be one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life.

“Alright,” Sakusa smirked, taking out a cigarette and grabbing his lighter. Atsumu snatched the lighter up much to the spiker's surprise, and dropped it back into his pocket, gesturing for Sakusa to put the cigarette in his mouth. Letting the stick balance precariously between his lips, Atsumu leaned forward and took the fire from the end of Sakusa’s cigarette, taking the wing spiker by surprise who simply stared at his teammate, unable to say a word. The fading embers of the sparks flittered to the ground and Atsumu sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and exhaling.

“Doesn’t look like your first time,” Sakusa commented, throwing his to the ground and crushing it beneath his shoe.

“Osamu used to steal some from our dad. He never really noticed so we kept them for special occasions. On the days we failed an exam, we shared one. On the days we lost a match, we would take one each.”

_When you broke my heart, I smoked two. One for each time you shattered this thing inside me that keeps beating for you._

“You’re an interesting character, Atsumu Miya,” Sakusa remarked, taking his mask out of his pocket as an indication he was going back inside. Before any of them could register what was happening, Atsumu had stepped forward to press his nicotine-tinged lips against Sakusa’s – ignoring the strong scent of tobacco that shrouded them both like a lingering cloud in the sky.

Sakusa pulled away again this time and Atsumu shook his head, letting out a strangled cry of frustration as he stared at the wing spiker he now shared a jersey with. “What goes on in yer’ head, Omi-omi? You broke my heart twice but I still can’t seem to understand how ya do it so well. Like, do ya just take delight in watching me suffer?”

“Atsumu-“

“Fuck!” Atsumu cursed, his palm slowly curling into a fist, that low hum of adrenaline flowing through his veins, into his bloodstream, making him scour the area for a target to release it on. But before he could, Sakusa pulled him close and kissed him back, and Atsumu melted into the kiss just as his anger melted away. Sakusa Kiyoomi was kissing him after all these years and with the moon as his witness, Atsumu Miya felt the broken pieces of his heart healing again. 

“Sakusa,” he breathed softly, their foreheads touching against each other as Sakusa apologised. 

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart twice. I promise not to do it again.”

_But more often that not, promises were meant to be broken, not kept._

They started spending more time together – sharing kisses in locker rooms and underneath starlit skies. Their teammates had noticed how Sakusa seemed to be more comfortable with all of them now, warming up to them slowly. Hinata had even whispered to Bokuto about how Atsumu was a good influence on Sakusa. Atsumu didn’t mind what his teammates said, he rarely listened to them anyway. All he knew was that he was happy with Sakusa and that was enough for now. 

Nothing good stayed forever though, and Atsumu Miya didn’t realise when exactly things started falling apart. But he thought it was when Sakusa started coming back late to the dormitory, smelling like another man’s cologne. Atsumu refused to acknowledge it at first, presuming Sakusa had just sprayed someone else’s cologne on after practice. He had often associated his boyfriend with cedarwood and now to smell the scent of jasmines on him instead, Atsumu realised something had changed.

“Omi-omi,” he suddenly said one day when they were sitting by the window in Sakusa’s bedroom, the latter’s head in Atsumu’s lap as he skimmed through a volleyball magazine. Atsumu ran his hands through the curls he had wanted to touch for so long; but it didn’t feel the same anymore. Nothing did. “Do ya still, love me?”

The latter had immediately shut the magazine and sat up, looking into his boyfriend’s brown eyes which were filled with worry and doubt. 

“Atsumu, what makes you think I don’t?”

Atsumu shrugged. “Ya could have anyone in the world. But ya chose me. Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for ya.”

Sakusa caressed his cheek gently as Atsumu leaned into his touch, relishing the warmth. “Atsumu, you will always be enough for me. Don’t ever think you’re not.”

_The same people who healed your heart could also break it._

October 5 came around and Atsumu Miya sat at the kitchen counter silently, hearing his boyfriend silently come home. Sakusa turned the light on and was startled to see the blonde sitting in the dark, a lighter in his hand as he kept flicking it on and off.

“Atsumu,” he started. “What are you-“

Atsumu held up his hand and willed himself not to cry as he forced the words out. “Where were ya?”

“At a friend’s,” Sakusa frowned. “They’re visiting Osaka and-“

“Did ya remember it’s my birthday today?” Atsumu questioned, every bone in his body aching now as he felt the stirrings deep in the pits of his chest. 

“Fuck,” Sakusa cursed before he could refrain himself from doing so. “Fuck, Atsumu. I’m so sorry. The meeting with my friend ran late and I forgot-“

“How long?” Atsumu interrupted, his voice devoid of emotion as he continued in that monotone way of interrogation. “How long have ya been going behind my back and seeing Ushijima Wakatoshi?”

Sakusa’s sharp intake of breath and absence of excuse further convinced Atsumu he was right. Flicking the lighter off, he chucked it to his boyfriend who caught it and Atsumu gestured for him to run his finger down the metal to the initials which were etched at the bottom. “U.W.,” Atsumu explained. “Found it in my room the other day, under the bed. Must have dropped from yer pocket after our date at the ramen bar.”

“Atsumu,” Sakusa tried and Atsumu shook his head, the pain rising slowly as everything in him started to shatter, including his resolve. He fell to the ground on his knees as Sakusa quickly ran over, holding him. Atsumu somehow didn’t have the strength to push him away. In fact, Atsumu lacked the strength to continue anything anymore, even life at this point.

“Three times huh,” he managed to choke out between tears. “Three times I let ya heal my heart and you broke it instead. I’m so, so, sorry, Omi-omi. Maybe I was never enough for ya. It’s _my_ fault, all of it.”

Tears started streaming down both their faces as Atsumu pulled away first and wiped at them with the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m heading out,” he declared. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” Grabbing his jacket from the chair which it was hanging on, Atsumu had his hand on the doorknob when Sakusa grabbed his hand. 

“Please, Atsumu.”

_Whatever you wanted; but not what you needed._

“I’m sorry, Omi-omi.”

When Atsumu headed out, he was suddenly reminded of Inarazaki’s motto - _we don’t need (things like) memories._ Maybe he really didn't need these memories anymore.

The walk turned into a jog and Atsumu found himself breaking into a run. He didn’t know where he was going; nor where he was. He just wanted to outrun the ghosts of the past that were chasing after him, slowly catching up, and all of them shared the same pair of dark green eyes that he was now drowning in.

* * *

“Miya-san,” Hinata reached out to touch the older setter’s hand and Atsumu realised he had tears streaking down his cheeks. 

“Sorry,” he apologised, swiping at his face blindly with a tissue. “Where was I?”

“The memories, chasing after you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Atsumu reached for his glass and took another sip of liquid gold. “When I went back, he was gone. Just like he had never lived there at all.”

Hinata found himself unable to respond to that. What could you say to someone who had lost several years of their life trying to love someone who broke them not once, not twice, but three times?

“Ya know what the worst part is, Shoyo?” Atsumu asked the younger boy who shook his head in response. 

“The worst part is that I don’t regret anything that happened. And I don’t hate him, not at all.”

Hinata watched his senior teammate slowly get to his feet and he quickly paid the bill, helping the blonde up. It was hard to support him considering Atsumu had more than a few inches on him; but Hinata tried his best to help the setter up and they headed outside.

“So that’s it,” Atsumu confessed, laughing drunkenly. “The story of how Sakusa Kiyoomi broke my heart three times.”

“I’m sorry,” Hinata found himself saying. “It must have been painful.”

“Oh it still hurts,” Atsumu assured him. “It feels as though some nights I can’t breathe because something is breaking within me and I realise after sometime that it’s my heart. It hurts yes, but I’m still alive, aren’t I? Maybe he was the right person for me; just that we kept finding each other at the wrong times.”

Underneath the pale hue of the moonlight, Hinata found his respect for the Black Jackal’s setter growing. He thought of Kageyama and how happy he seemed in that picture with his new girlfriend and he smiled to himself.

“Yeah,” he told Atsumu with a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You’re very much alive, Miya-san. Now, let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cherrybomb_su)


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